


Burning Red

by pinkpastels113



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Pining, Unconnected Chapters, because i am an artist, because i am symbolic, different POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 23:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkpastels113/pseuds/pinkpastels113
Summary: Chloe Beale is red. Red has different shades. Each one of them represent something completely different. But is different all that bad?B/C. In progress. Rating subject to change.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Blush/Giddy

Blush red to Chloe is being giddy.

It's being happy and bouncy and humming in the shower and putting on makeup and wearing bright colors and smiling at strangers and laughing with friends and joining the Bellas and living with the Bellas and _being_ a Bella.

It's hanging out with Aubrey and laughing with Fat Amy and giggling with Stacie and joking with Cynthia Rose and beatboxing with Lilly and trading stories with Flo and mixing up and apologizing to Jessica and Ashley and considering them her family and creating music with them and pillow fighting with them and going to parties with them and having fun with them and practicing with them and going to competitions with them and _winning_ with them.

It's locking eyes with Beca at the fair and singing Titanium with her in the shower and persuading her to consider auditioning for the Bellas and seeing her actually _show up_ for the auditions and having her smile at her and listening to her cups song and succeeding in convincing Aubrey to let her join despite her best friend's obvious dislike towards her.

It's having Beca coming to _her_ whenever she has a question when she could've literally asked anyone else and having her come to the first riff off and _oh my god, Beca can freaking rap?_

It's seeing Beca show up at every Bellas rehearsal when anyone with eyes can see that she would rather be literally anywhere else and that she _hates_ the songs that they were singing and that she thinks Aubrey is a total pain in her ass.

It's teaching her the choreography and despite the eye rolling and sarcastic comments about her not needing Chloe's help with any of it, she still lets her wrap her arms around her and lead her through the hand box movements.

It's Beca letting her touch her and hug her and tease her and wink at her and flirt with her and kiss her cheek when she gets uncomfortable when others do the same.

It's Beca teasing and hugging and flirting _back._

It's Beca eventually inviting her into her dorm to see who this Kimmy Jin person is and allowing her to listen to some of her mixes.

It's squealing at how she recognized most of the songs blasting in her ears and how she doesn't care about the ones she doesn't recognize because _oh my god it's so good._

It's texting Beca as soon as she found out that they have another shot at Finals.

It's Aubrey finally _finally_ stepping down and giving Beca a chance with her amazing talent with music.

It's the disbelief on Beca's face and the pure happiness shining in her eyes when the first person she sought out with them was her.

It's the spring in Beca's step when she's leading them to the pool and her request of Chloe to lead and the _choice_ of the song and the magnetic eye contact they were having like she was singing to _her_ throughout the entirety of the mind-blowing event.

It's the confident leadership that embodies Beca when she changed the entire routine and asked for her and Aubrey's help for the corresponding choreography 'cuz she's crap at it.

It's the first freaking place Beca helped them reach at Lincoln Center, accomplishing the one goal she and Aubrey had strived for the entirety of the year.

It's the realization that she, Chloe Beale, is hopelessly and completely in love with Beca Mitchell.

* * *


	2. Blood/Heartbroken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is in Aubrey's POV, which means there will probably be some Beca bashing because...well, it just fits with the story. Fair warning though.

Aubrey looked up from her textbook when there was a bang on her door. She was about to frown at the sudden noise ruining her concentration for the upcoming exam when she realized who the person was.

"Chloe?"

She watched as her best friend stumbled into her room and collapsed on her bed, curling herself into a ball and shoulders shaking with sobs. She immediately threw her book aside and crawled to her, tentatively wrapping her arms around the crying redhead and brushing a kiss atop her head. "Shhh, it's okay." She gently tucked Chloe's head into her neck and rocked them back and forth, knowing that the action soothed her and not caring that her shirt is starting to soak with tears. "It's gonna be okay, Chlo, I'm right here," she whispered softly into her ear.

Aubrey knew it was bad when Chloe clung to her like a lifeline, twisting her fist into her shirt and burying her face deeper into her chest. Her heart ached for her and she's desperate to know what happened, what made her happy and carefree and lively best friend break down like a crumbling pile of rocks, but she held her questions back and decided to let Chloe talk whenever she's ready. She has an inkling about the subject of her friend's choking pain—there was only one thing in the world, one _person_ , that has the power to make her feel this deeply, _hurt_ this badly, and god dammit, that girl is so _dead—_ but she just bit her lip and stewed silently and continued rocking.

After what seems like hours and hours of heartbreaking moments later, during which the sound of Chloe's gasping sobs and Aubrey's murmuring reassurances were the only things breaking the silence that had descended upon the dimly lit room, the redhead hiccuped, and slowly peeled herself away from the blonde's soaked Barden University t-shirt. Her blue eyes that usually glimmered and sparkled like the sun reflecting off the sea were flat and dead as she looked up at her friend, and Aubrey can feel her own eyes tearing up at the soul-crushing sight.

Aubrey brushed her hand through Chloe's hair and smiled encouragingly at her, waiting patiently for her to calm down and gather the energy to tell her what was bothering her. She continued stroking her hair when Chloe looked away and fiddled with her fingers, mentally cursing the girl in her mind for the hundredth time.

"It's Beca, Bree," Chloe whispered, her voice dry and sounding like she's exhausted from weeping every once of moisture from her body, "Beca...she...I thought…" Her fingers were a blur as they twisted and untwisted against each other.

Aubrey brought her hands down to stop the fidgeting and leaned her head forward so they were at eye level. "What, Chlo," she asked gently, knowing Chloe needed her help to coax it out so it won't stay bottled up and eat away at her from the inside, "What did she do?"

She felt both relieved and disappointed at herself for being right.

Chloe lets out a shaking breath and mumbled "She was kissing Jesse. I wanted to stop by just to see what she was doing and maybe ask her to come over for dinner since she mentioned to me in a text that she hadn't eaten yet and I was just opening her door and they were kissing and I—", She closed her eyes and shook her hands in a habitual gesture that's a telling of her anxiety before continuing, "I just...I don't know, Bree. Like I know she likes him and they're dating and stuff but I just somehow thought they weren't serious, y'know? I just thought there was a chance that—I had _hoped_ that—we could become something but now they're kissing and obviously serious and...oh god, I'm so stupid," she finished with a groan, her face crumpling as if she is on the verge of another wave of tears.

Aubrey made a sympathetic sound in her throat and pulled Chloe closer, feeling the redhead's legs wrap around her stomach and her arms squeezing tight against her back. She heard Chloe's tired request to carry her to the shower and felt herself nod and stand up to do so, felt herself walking to her bathroom and turning on the light and opening the shower curtain and turning on the water and sticking a hand in to test the temperature, felt herself gently setting Chloe down in front of the sink and helping her with her clothes and tying her hair into a bun and helping her step into the steaming hot water, felt herself close the curtain behind her friend and getting her phone, felt herself opening her music app and click on one of Chloe's favorite songs and turning up the volume and placing it in the sink so the song amplified and rang out throughout the rapidly steaming room.

She felt herself smile sadly when Chloe eventually started to hum behind the downpour of water and felt herself walk back out towards her bedroom and sit down on her bed.

She felt herself doing the exact same things she had done a couple of times before, but her mind was set on making a mental note to make tomorrow the worst rehearsal Beca's had yet and reminding herself to pull the ignorant and emotionally stunted girl aside after said rehearsal and demanding to know what her damn problem is and telling her to open her heavily eyelined eyes and see what was damn well in front of her the entire fucking time she was fooling around with the Treble.

She wanted to yell at Beca and make her feel the same hurt Chloe is feeling, wanted to call her out for being a fucking child and a coward, wanted to tell her to get her head out of her ass and tell her that she is undeserving of the blind and beautiful love her best friend in the entire world is throwing at her.

She wanted to stare the brunette down and continue to make her feel bad and refuse her the chance to show "what can be changed" about their tradition, because if she is undeserving and refusing to acknowledge her feelings to her best friend, she is undeserving of her chance to show the others what she means by "songs that are actually from this century."

She wanted to make Beca's life a living hell because she made Chloe's life exactly that when she kissed that Treble without saying anything to anybody and instead of coming forward with her feelings and allow Chloe to move on, she continued messing with her and getting her hopes up and then crushing them time and time again.

She wanted to do all of those things because blood red to Chloe is being heartbroken.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Aubrey is acting this way because she's Chloe's best friend and she's just being protective. If you read my other fics, you'll know I have nothing against her. :))


	3. Wine/Wanting

Before Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale has never really understood the meaning of want.

Sure, she understood the textbook meaning, the one found in the dictionary and the one little children learn to try to get their parents to buy something pretty or new for them in the store, the meaning of wishing to have or having the need of something.

But she had always just alluded that meaning to something one wishes to have to satisfy one's immediate desire, or something one has the need for to make them feel better about themselves or the people or world around them.

She had always just assumed that wanting something means wanting ice cream in the hot sunny summer, hot chocolate in the cold snowy winter, strong coffee on a rainy tired morning, her mother's chicken noodle soup on a sickly bleary afternoon, oreos at the dead of night, the latest trendy clothes to fit in in middle school, a newer version of an outdated phone, a curiosity to experience the rumored first kiss, a frustration to ditch school work to hang out with friends, a standard to wear something pretty for a first date, and a feeling to feel hot on a girls night out.

Never before in her life has she ever assumed anything different, ever _understood_ anything else.

But that was the life she had before Beca Mitchell, before chocolate brown hair and steely blue eyes and snarky sarcastic attitude.

That was the life she had before a whole new—a whole _true_ new—meaning of the word slapped her right across the face.

The life she had before the sting in her cheeks afterwards opened her eyes to a meaning of the word that pertained to a _person_.

So now—because she hadn't ever really understood the _true_ meaning of want, let alone one that pertained to a _person_ —now she doesn't know what to do.

She doesn't know what to do with the wishing to have _and_ having the need of her, doesn't know what to do with the wish to have her to satisfy her _constant_ desire, doesn't know what to do with the having the need for her to make her feel _happier_ about herself and the people and world around her.

She tried ignoring it at first.

Then she tried suppressing it.

And when that obviously didn't work, she then tried showing it.

She tried ignoring it by not mentioning her at all to Aubrey after their initial conversation that fateful day at the Activities fair and by telling herself at the end of the day that it's okay that she has no interest at joining the Bellas because she and Bree had met enough people with the possible potential to fill the empty positions that afternoon and what reasonable good will she do anyway if she really can't sing?

Then she finds out that she can sing, and quite well at that, and so she then tried suppressing it by not touching her at all in the shower stall after helping her pick up the shampoo bottles and other bathroom items and by telling herself later that night that she's with Tom and that she's a girl and that she's most likely straight and that she already thinks she's weird for barging into her shower completely naked so what would she think if she tells her that she wants her to come to bed with her and sing Titanium with her under her covers?

But when Tom starts noticing that she talks about Beca more often than about what they should do for their next date and that she is starting to shy away from sex with him, she tried showing it by grabbing her hands and pulling her close and looking at her lips and by telling her that she thinks they will be fast friends and that she will be more than willing to get her a drink and that she's talented and hot and her music covers are so good so why doesn't she allow more people to hear them and why can't she accept compliments?

All her friends—new and old—know about her wanting, and so Chloe thinks Beca should've caught on by now, but she hasn't, despite her best efforts, and now she really doesn't know what to do after her failed attempt at showing it.

Because flat out _telling_ her would be a dumb idea and she would rather give up her left arm than risk rippling her current relationship—aka friendship on Beca's part and pathetic pining on her part—with her in any way.

"Tell her you love her and see if she says it back," Stacie says when Chloe stares after Beca's retreating back one morning after rehearsal, and she laughs and shakes her head.

"She won't take me seriously and will just think I meant it as friends."

"Well…" Stacie draws out, clearly waiting for Chloe to meet her eyes, and she does, stripping off her sweaty t-shirt in preparation of throwing on a clean one, "You have to start somewhere right? And besides, if she can't even say that she loves you as a friend—even jokingly—you'll know that she'll need more time before you start coming onto her. More—" she amends with a finger pointing at Chloe at the look Chloe shoots her, "I meant before you start coming onto her more."

Chloe frowns, considering that suggestion as she absentmindedly throws on a pink v-neck, and then she shrugs because it's not like it's something that she can't do and it's not like she has anything to lose if she would just say it in just the same way as if she would be saying it to her parents or brother or Bree or any other one of the Bellas.

And as aforementioned, it's not like she has any better ideas.

So she does.

She takes Stacie's advice and chirps a "Kay, I'll see you later, Becs. Love you," one afternoon as she gets up to leave Beca's dorm to grab them some lunch, and she tries to not make herself appear obvious that she's stalling as she fiddles with her keys, waiting anxiously for Beca's reply, or lack thereof.

"Yeah, uh, love you, too," Beca mumbles, not taking her eyes off her computer screen.

Chloe grins and leaves and for the rest of that day, she feels as if she's walking on clouds.

So at least Beca loves her as a friend.

That's a start.

After that—as per Stacie's words—Chloe starts coming onto her _more_ , lingering her fingers on her arms and her lips on her cheek and her nose in her hair, and she throws a wink in her direction every chance she gets and she comments on how amazing she looks in basically every outfit she wears on girls night out and on how she somehow looks the best out of all of them in every Bella performance even though they each literally have on the same clothes.

She starts to say those three little words to her more often than anyone else in her entire life and with every day that passes by, she incorporates more and more meaning into it.

She wants Beca to one day realize that she has meant—still means—those words since day one as more than friends.

To one day realize that she wishes to capture each and every one of her rare moments of vulnerability and keep them in a jar and seal the lid tight and keep it by her nightstand and only open it when she's sure she's alone and ready to relive them one right after another.

To realize that she adores every cute little tick she has and that she wishes to mold them all into a life size teddy bear and cuddle with it every night to sleep and pretend that it's her arms that she wakes up to in the morning.

To realize that there's not enough ice cream and hot chocolate and coffee and Oreos in the whole world for her to quench her thirst and craving for her.

To realize that she had cried for hours upon hours after the ICCAs, the finals, the victory, the _kiss_ , and that she hates Jesse and hates herself for hating Jesse and hates the world for hating herself for hating Jesse and that she _wants_ her so she can _stop_ hating Jesse and herself for hating Jesse and the world for hating herself for hating Jesse.

To realize that she does not play well at all with the green eyed monster—never have and never will—and is especially so when it involves a certain chocolate brown haired and steely blue eyed and snarky sarcastic mouthed someone and even just the mere _thought_ of someone else laying their hands on her.

"You know," Bree hums when Chloe growls at the sight of Jesse's hands on Beca's waist one night at a celebratory party, "Beca is very touchy when she's drunk."

"I noticed," she spits out, not bothering to cover the venom in her voice because she knows Aubrey knows that her less-than-cheery-tone is not directed in any way towards her best friend.

"So…" Bree trails off, raising her eyebrows, and Chloe is suddenly reminded of a previous conversation she had with Stacie months prior. "Are you going to do something about it?"

She looks at her out of the corners of her eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," the blonde clarifies, gesturing with her cup towards the couple on the dance floor Chloe refuses to turn away from, "Are you going to go over there and steal her away from that Treble and do something about it?"

"I thought you were against taking advantage of people when they're drunk?" She has been with her best friend long enough to catch on to the blonde's high sense of morality, and she's pretty sure that what she's suggesting right now is most definitely not on the high end of her best friend's meter of right and wrong.

"It's not taking advantage if both sides give consent," Bree answers, a smile unfurling on her lips as she watches Jesse move away from Beca to get himself a drink, "And something tells me she will." And then, as if to purposely spur Chloe on, she continues, "And it's not like you are going to drag her away into some dark and unfamiliar place to have sex with her."

Chloe bites hard on her tongue to prevent herself from blurting out something along the lines of how Bree doesn't even know how badly she wants to do just that, however wrong and inappropriate it is, because if her previous comment hadn't already been on her best friend's disapproval end of her morality spectrum, _that_ one certainly will be.

 _God_ , she thinks, _I want her so so bad._

She hasn't been with anyone since that random guy after Tom, since that guy almost a year ago in a fruitless attempt to distract herself from the burning ache between her legs that had been caused by seeing Beca that day red and flushed and sweating and panting and bent over after a particularly gruesome cardio exercise. It had been fruitless because she had thought about Beca the entire time—her soft but insistently rough fingertips when it slid in and out of her, her fruity scented shampoo when it enveloped in and around her, her warm and smooth skin when it pressed up against her, her talented and sharp tongue when it licked and sucked at the pulse point pounding wildly within her, and she had stumbled home right afterwards to get herself off at the image of Beca looking like she did hours prior, only that time due to exertion from spending an inordinate amount of time under her tangling and rumpling up her sheets.

That had been the first time she had touched herself to the thought of Beca, the first and unquestionably _not_ last time.

Since then, she hadn't been—couldn't bring herself to be—with anyone else.

It's like she's in a phantom relationship.

A phantom relationship with someone who's in a real one.

Taking her silence as doubt about whether or not she should go through with her proposition, Aubrey heaves a big sigh and says, "Look, I just want you to be happy and possibly speed up the process of you and Beca ending up together—don't make that face at me, Chloe, I'm serious—and I will not be here long enough to help you do that anymore because my retreat is starting up soon and so I just thought that now is as good a time as any to whisk her away from her boyfriend and have a dance or two with her and her drunken touchiness. That's all. And," she adds with a pointed look towards a tall figure giggling a few feet away from her, "If you are nervous about doing whatever it is you are going to do with me or any of us watching, don't worry, I'll keep myself and everyone else occupied."

Chloe lets out a dark and humorless laugh at that last part, because that is the _least_ of her current worries. She's more worried about _herself_ getting too carried away with Beca's malleability with her averse to touch when she's full of alcohol than about Aubrey or the rest of the Bellas or just about anyone else _watching_ her get carried away.

She actually thinks that it would be better if everyone else watches, because that would mean that everyone else will know that Beca is hers.

That thought gives her the courage she needs to set her jaw and square her shoulders and throw back the rest of her drink, shuddering at how it burned its way down her throat, and she thrusts her empty cup at Bree's chest and rasps, "Hold my cup," before making her way towards the dance floor.

Towards the girl with her hands in her chocolate brown hair and with her lithe body twisting and flowing with the music pumping from above.

She pushes against the bodies standing in her way without sparing even a glance of apology at their shouts of indignation and puts her hands on her waist, exactly where Jesse's had been, and pulls her close, flushing her back tight and snug against her front.

"Hey," she breathes in her ear, her heart leaping with joy at the way Beca relaxes at the sound of her voice, "Wanna dance?"

She turns her head to look at her, and Chloe can't help a wink at the glimmer of playfulness in her steely blue eyes, "We're at a party, Chlo, of course I wanna dance."

She wants Beca to one day realize what her nickname does to her.

"Glad to know you're still your snarky and sarcastic self, Becs, even when you're drunk," she tuts, clicking her tongue in mock disapproval.

Beca wrinkles her nose, "I'm not drunk, I'm just tipsy. I still know what I'm doing and even though the edges of my vision are starting to get blurry, it's not bad enough to where I'll forget what happens here tonight when I wake up tomorrow."

"Not enough to forget about me dancing with you?", she asks, rolling her body provocatively against her back for emphasis.

"Are you kidding? Me forget about a hot and sexy redhead such as yourself?," Beca replies with a smoldering wink and a tantalizing quirk of her lips, "I don't think I can bring myself to even if I'm fully sober."

Touchy _and_ flirty.

Good god, she was right about worrying about herself getting too carried away.

"I can easily say the same about you," she deliberately allows her teeth to lightly graze the shell of her ear, taking pleasure in the way soft hands suddenly grip at the arms still encircling her waist, "You have no idea."

Because how could she possibly?

How could she possibly even hold a candle to how she feels about her?

"Yeah?" Beca swivels around in her arms and drums her fingers up the curve of spine and drags her nose along the side of her neck, and Chloe has to force herself to breathe, "Enlighten me."

And so she did, right in the middle of a sweaty and writhing crowd with some god awful techno music screaming and pounding from the speakers overhead that she is secretly glad for because that means she gets to grind herself on the woman in front of her and blame her movements and enthusiasm on something else besides her constant and restless and ungratified libido.

Because that means she gets to have something more to think about, something more to store into her mental library of Beca moments for her to recall later that night, because that means she gets to have the experience of Beca kissing her neck and diluting her hips and fisting her hair.

Because that means Chloe gets to understand that wine red to her is to be wanting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And those are the ones that I have already done and imported from fanfic.net. See you guys for the rest and stay tuned!


End file.
